The Power of Three
by LAchicknikki
Summary: Two seniors with their world turned upside down. They longed for the days when College was their biggest worry.
1. Advertisers Suck!

**Call me crazy, I don't know what I'm thinking doing three fics at once! lol. I got this idea, and wanted to pen it (figuratively of course) before I lost the words and flow. I hope you guys like this, it's a little more dramatic than my other fics. REVIEW!!**

**Rated M for strong language.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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"Ninety-nine per cent effective" what the hell does that mean? Nothing. You know what people think when they see statistics like that? They think "Almost certain" "What are the chances that I'd be that one per cent?". As far as I'm concerned, if it's not one hundred per cent it means absolutely fuck all. Just sounds like bullshit made up in some office by an advertising jerk. You know what? I reckon anything less than one hundred per cent should be labelled: _"Watch out! You could be that person who's going to have your life screwed up because our company's full of no-good slackers that can't make anything up to scratch."_. Huh, wouldn't that be interesting? I'd like to see how many people would take that chance. I know I wouldn't of. Okay, I'll be completely honest, I was one of those people who didn't care about that one per cent who would have their life changed, but guess what? I'm not like that anymore. You know why? _I'm_ that one per cent.

It started a week - or two - ago, I was throwing up all the time, and couldn't keep me food down, but, I didn't think anything of it; there was a stomach bug going around at the time, so I figured that it'd pass. After the first few days, my gut started telling me that it was something more, bigger, but I tried to ignore it. That only lasted so long, though, because shortly after, the real issue was waving me in the face, demanding my attention. I was late. I was _never_ late. So, I took that step, I made sure I drove to a clinic real far out so I didn't risk anyone seeing me, and that was it. I, Gabriella Montez, seventeen year old honour student, who had just returned from a visit to the prestigious Harvard University, was pregnant.

My mom had told me that if my vomiting continued, then she'd take me to get checked out at the doctors. I didn't know how to refuse, so I agreed. So, I was sat in the waiting room at the doctors beside my mom, feeling queasy as my nose twitched. I hated the smell of hospitals and surgeries; it was like a combination of those latex gloves and anti-bacterial spray. When we'd signed in, the girl at reception had told us that we'd be seeing someone filling in for my usual doctor and that made me feel a little better. I really liked Dr. Li - she'd been my doctor since I was eight, she'd been the only doctor who'd been able to give me my flu shot - and I would've felt really bad lying to her. She was one of those people, y'know, who was just so honest and friendly that you'd get this sick feeling in your stomach just at the thought of deceiving her, so, the fact that it was somebody I didn't know that well, really worked for me today.

As I stepped through the doctor's door, I froze in shock as she turned to greet us and I saw her face. She was a dark-skinned black doctor with a warm smile and her hair was in dread-locks, tied neatly into a bun. I knew I had recognized her voice when she had told us to come in after we'd politely knocked, but I didn't think much of it, but now as she stood in front of me, there was no denying that we knew each other. I felt my mother prod me in my back.

"Gabi, honey," she said, urging me forward before directing her speech to Dr. Johnson and saying, "I'm sorry, Gabriella isn't too fond of doctors."

The doctor gave us both a genuine smile. "Don't apologize, I see that in patients from five to fifty," she chuckled. "Please, take a seat."

My feet were still uncertain as I ebbed towards the chair and seated myself. I had to give it to her, though, the way she looked at me, you'd never believe that she'd even glanced me walking down the street before, let alone that she'd showed me towards a doctor's office in a sexual health clinic only five days before. I was the only one letting this façade down. As she began to speak, I retired into my shy eight year old self, my arms crossed in my lap as I stared down at my fingers.

"So, let's talk about my symptoms." Dr. Johnson said, playing along as though she too was under the belief that I had a stomach flu. "Is it just nausea?" I nodded in silence and she continued. "So, no fever, lethargy?" she jotted away on her little pad as I replied in the negative to both.

"Well, I have been feeling kind of tired," I admitted, though I was pretty certain that too was a result of the pregnancy.

"Okay. When was the last time you were ill, Gabriella?"

I thought about it for a moment carefully, it was so hard to pinpoint a specific day, I felt as though I was throwing up on a constant basis. "Umm…yesterday morning."

"And I see here," she flicked through her files. "That you have a completely clear medical history,"

My mother nodded proudly and began saying how she'd made sure I'd eaten all my vegetables when I was growing up. "That's why I wanted to make sure that it was nothing serious," she explained. "Gabi rarely get sick - I mean, colds and such - so she doesn't tend to pick up these bugs when they go around."

Dr. Johnson nodded in an understanding way. She began to ask me a few question - I think she wanted to make me more comfortable - and then I heard my mothers phone vibrating against the keys in her bag. She looked at us apologetically smiling and then reached for the phone. Checking the caller ID, she said, "I'm sorry," already standing up. "I'm going to have to take this." I thought that it was probably work calling. "Gabi, are you going to be alright?"

"Mom, I'm seventeen, I think I can handle myself for ten minutes." Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. She left us alone and then it was just the doctor and me. The doctor that knew my little secret.

"Gabriella," her voice was more stern than it had been, but it was still soft. "Is it morning sickness?" I kind of liked the way she phrased it in that subtle way; it didn't seem as accusatory as it would've had she just come out and asked me if I was pregnant. I nodded. She had this air about her, kind of like Dr. Li, where she made me feel quite safe, as if I didn't have to hide and feel ashamed. "You have to tell your mother, Gabriella, it isn't right to make her worry like this."

I scoffed. "Sure I can imagine that going down well; 'Oh, Gabriella," I began, doing an impression of my mother. "'I thought you had a little stomach flu, but _pregnant? _Is that it? Well why didn't you say?' Yeah, I don't see that happening, do you?" I snapped, folding my arms defensively across my stomach again. I'd noticed that I was getting real pissy since I found out. It's like…PMS times ten. I felt bad for being so snappy but it was too late now, no point apologizing.

"I think it's right to let her know. How about the father, have you told him?" I was silent again, tired of her questions. "Are you…are you together?" She asked softly, her voice communicating a pity inside of her that was brewing for me.

My head snapped up, outraged. "I don't just go around sleeping with random guys you know?" I said quite loudly, though still low enough that had my mother been approaching the door she wouldn't have heard me. "Yes, I'm with him."

She nodded again - that was really starting to get to me. "Well, maybe the first step will be to tell him, then, that way, the two of you can explain to your parents united," she suggested. "Gabriella, I understand that you're probably scared, but it'll be easier when you have people to talk to."

"I'm not scared," I denied. "It's just that…he plays ball and the end of the season is coming up and it's like the biggest game of his life and I don't want to stress him out. The second the season's over, then I'll tell him." I felt like I was being pretty convincing, but Dr. Johnson wasn't buying it; I guess she's seen a lot of girls in my position.

"Very considerate of you, Gabriella, but you have to understand, the more you try to hide this, the more stress that puts you, and in turn, the baby, under. It's not healthy." She didn't say it directly, but I knew she was telling me to tell him. "Have you…made any decisions yet?"

"I'm not getting rid of it, if that's what you mean," I mumbled. That was pretty much the only thing I'd been definite on. I knew right away that I was going to have the baby, I couldn't live with killing my child.

"Okay, well that's the first, most important decision. The rest…that'll come to you in time. I can't tell your mother, Gabriella, everything you say to me has to be confidential, but if you need someone to come and talk to, I'll be here…or at my other practice." She handed me a card with the other address on it, though she knew I'd remember where she sex clinic was, and I took it, feigning reluctance.

"Thank you," I mumbled, slipping the card deep into my purse.

*******

I hadn't quite thought it through, but I knew Dr. Johnson was right, so I sat with my phone in my hand dialling. I'd been there for a while, dialling wrong numbers to by myself time or shutting my phone down the second I pressed that key with little green phone on it. Finally, I dialled and didn't punk out, instead just listened to the torturous ringing on the other side. She answered after a while and I froze momentarily and then said, "Hey, Tay,"

"Hey, Gabs, what's up?"

My mind went blank as I started thinking about how I was going to tell her. How would she react? I knew she wasn't the type to say I shouldn't have the baby, but she was going to freak out.

"Gabi? Are you there?"

"Oh," I snapped myself out of it. "Yeah, something just…something outside my window distracted me." Wow, I was lying a lot these days. She asked me what was up again, and I started to ramble, I'm not too sure what I said.

"Want to come--"

"I'm pregnant," like I said, I had no plan so blurting it out seem the best way to go. "Tay?" I said, uncertain that she was still there when all I heard was silence.

"Either…my line just got interrupted and I picked up someone else's conversation or…you're…are you?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Whoa. That's like…that's pretty big."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, so I've heard." I sad sharply.

"Ouch, someone's pissy,"

I laughed, that was one of the things I loved about Taylor, she wouldn't just let you snap at her and not say something to knock you down a peg or two to snap you out of your mood. She was awesome that way. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I've been doing that a lot lately. …The hormones, I guess." I said, my voice sedated.

"Gosh, Gabi, have you told your Mom, Troy?"

"You're the first person that knows," I replied, my arm once again falling over my stomach - I realised that I've fallen into that habit of late.

"Well," her voice was suddenly energetic, the sudden change surprised me. "Maybe it was just a wrong test - you hear about this things all the time."

I could picture her as she spoke. I knew she was probably tapping away on her laptop, pulling up stats. "I wish," I said solemnly. "I took three pregnancy tests at home and they were all positive, then I went to this sex clinic to get a doctor's test…positive. I've thought of all these things, Tay, trying to find a loop hole, some kind of mistake, but there isn't one. In nine months, I'm going to be a Mom." Before I even knew it, a fresh batch of tears were streaming down my face, unstoppable, and I was bawling again. Somewhere deep in my consciousness, I could hear Taylor's comforting words, telling me that it would be okay and that I shouldn't cry, but how could I not? I was scared shitless right now, and hadn't a clue what to do. I don't know how to raise a kid, I'm still a kid myself! I don't want to screw up, this is like, I'm going for a huge test and haven't done any revision.

That night, I lay in bed talking - well, whispering - aloud. I was talking to my dad, and this baby. To my dad, I told him that I was sorry. Sorry for letting him down, not making him proud. I asked for his help and guidance too. To the baby, I said a lot, to the baby, I apologized. I told it how sorry I was that I hadn't planned it and that I wasn't sure I could take care of it like it deserved to be cared for, but that I promised to try my best and love it as much as I could, if it would just be patient with me. I also said that even if it was just the two of us, we'd be okay together, because I wouldn't let anyone harm it. And, I told it, in advance, that I was sorry for any mistakes that I made.

Yeah, I was real sorry, that night.

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**I hope you enjoyed that, please review. I warn you now, this won't be updated regularly but I'll try not to leave months in between chapters :)**

**Btw, I had to delete my Zanessa fic because someone reported it - rolls eyes - but don't worry, I'm going to continue to upload it on Live Journal - I'll post the link in my profile :)**

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	2. On the Edge

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**Umm...that's pretty much it, I hope you enjoy and review!**

**Rated M: language and possible sexual scenes**

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and words ;)**

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I could feel Troy's lips as they swept over my body, down my neck. I closed my eyes, peacefully, allowing this feeling to take me back to how things used to be. A few weeks ago, I was dreaming of just this: his lips caressing every inch of my body, nipping and sucking my burning flesh. I'd fall asleep to the memory of his hands, so strong and gentle, touching me, roaming my skin, igniting within me a passion only he could. The way he'd caress my skin, the thought alone used to give me goose bumps, he'd move so slowly, as though making sure each part of me was given the equal amount of attention. The simplest touches could get me to shiver; a touch of our hands, his fingertips dancing across my bare waist. _God_.

I could still feel his lips on me and, mechanically, I rose my arms as he inched my purple blouse up my body and over my head, until I was in no more than my bra and jeans. His tongue flicked over the soft skin above my bra. Usually I'd moan at this and he knows that, but my mind wasn't there, I was still in my daydream, watching as my past self giggled as he threw me onto his bed and stripped off his jeans. My head began to thrash a little - my day dream fading. Had I been fully present, I think I would've screamed for it to stay. In my mind, I could feel myself running, searching frantically for whichever deep crevice that it had buried itself. I couldn't find it, though, it was too late. Like a balloon, released into the skies, my dream was floating away beyond my reach.

Eventually, I registered the fact that the warm pressure of Troy's body had left me, and my eyes slowly opened with curiosity. Troy was sat beside me, his eyebrows furrowed the slightest as he looked down at me.

"Where are you?" He asked me. My brows knitted too, matching his and I sat up, my neck straining from trying to stare up at him. "You haven't heard a word I've said since you got here and just then," he gestured towards the bed, referencing our, or rather, _his_, recent activity. At this point, I reached for my blouse, feeling it inappropriate to be half-naked at that moment. "It's like you were a million miles away. Where's your mind at, Gabi?" He asked softly. I could tell he wasn't mad, just concerned.

"Just…thinking," I said, looking around me, anywhere but his eyes. Silently, brushing his finger tips over the back of my hand, he asked me what I was thinking about, what was niggling so deeply at me that even he couldn't get through. "I'm scared," I whispered. "I'm scared that everything's going to change too much, and that…that I'm going to lose you." Tears welled in my eyes, I could feel them burning each time I attempted to blink them away. I spoke as honestly as I could with out telling him the entire truth.

"Babe, we've spoken about this." Troy said. "Sure, it'll be tough at first, hard to get used to - but we'll handle it. Some couples live in different _countries_ and make it, we can survive being in different states. We'll spend weekends together when we don't have work on, holidays we can be together. We'll be okay." He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as well as assure me.

"I'm not talking about college," I said. I was getting closer to telling him, I could feel the words tickling my lips, trying to get through.

"Then…what?" I could see the worry in his eyes, his piercing blue eyes. He squeezed my hand tighter, giving me these small forced smiles, trying to get me to talk. "What, Gabi, tell me what it is…please."

I didn't know where to start, I only knew what the ending would be. I glanced up at him and could see the fear in his eyes, but along with fear, there was love, tenderness, concern for me. How could I tell him that I was going to change his life so drastically, how could I be so selfish. He was perfect, Troy, everything a girl could hope for, and here I was, about to ruin his life. "I'm pregnant, Troy, I'm having a baby." The words were so quiet, timid, I wasn't sure I'd actually spoken them. It was the look on Troy's face - the frozen look of shock, his mouth hanging open as his eyes widened, unblinking - that assured me that I had and that Troy had understood.

I left him a while, giving him a chance to process the information - it was only fair. I looked back a him about five minutes later, he still hadn't said anything and I was starting to worry. Troy was naturally tanned so I figured it'd take him quite a while to get pale, but in these last few minutes, his eyes had dilated, fading to a pale grey colour, and his skin was pasty and white, clammy too. "Troy?" I said. Silence. "Troy, say something."

Crap! I didn't think he was breathing, so I hopped off the bed and sprinted down stairs to his kitchen, throwing the cabinets open and frantically searching for some aspirin. "Shit!" I yelled quietly when I couldn't find them. There seemed to be every kind of medicine except the one I needed; headache and migraine tablets, sore throat, cough - dry, chesty, phlegm - muscle ache; was it normal for one house to have that much pain relief? Finally I found some, stuffed right at the back of the cupboard and I shook two out into my palm, threw them in the bottom of a large glass and hurriedly poured some water on top, speeding up the process of the dissolving by stirring the water quickly with a spoon, ignoring the clinkering sound of the metal spoon whacking against the glass.

With the bottle of aspirin still in my hand, I was prepared in case Troy needed more than to two I'd provided, I sprinted back up the stairs to Troy's room, where he was sitting on the bed, still no change in his visage. Realising that he was unable to take the glass, I pressed the cold glass to his lips, like I was nursing a baby, and I heard him start sipping. I started to feel slightly resentful at that moment as I watched him. Who was there to hand me aspirin? To make sure I wasn't going into apoplectic shock when, over and over, my tests came up positive? No one. I was alone in my bathroom crying my eyes out and nobody was there to hold me. I pulled myself back, I mean, it wasn't as if I could blame Troy. Correction, if I wanted to blame Troy, I could, after all he _was_ kind of vital in this whole situation, I could hardly have gotten pregnant on my own, and I knew for the most part, even if Troy did want to be involved, I would be alone; I'd be the one getting the dirty looks and comments on the street -_"Can't be out of high school yet." "These young girls today." "Blame the parents." - _having to carry this child and go through the pain of labour, and for that, I _was_ bitter, but I knew it wasn't right to blame him. I hadn't been forced into anything, it was something that both of us had discussed, considered and finally agreed to, both excepting equal the responsibility for our actions, so, I guess, we were both equally accountable - when things got tough, which they were bound to, I'd have to remind myself of that.

I felt Troy slowly come back to himself, and when he was able, he took control of the glass and took one final slurp before turning to look at me, glass still in hand. "You sure?" was the first question he asked.

I was about to roll my eyes and tut, but I figured it was a pretty reasonable question. I nodded; "I've taken a whole bunch of tests."

"How long?"

"About two weeks."

"The vomiting?"

"Yeah." I replied and he took gulped down another mouthful of water.

"How far gone?"

"About a month and a half."

"Fuck." He murmured, raking his fingers through his hair. "How!?" He suddenly yelled, his paroxysm making me jump. "We've always used protection, right?"

"It's not always effective, though." I said, but he didn't hear me.

"It's never split before, so how?" He flipped his body over and stuffed his hand under his mattress, I knew what he was looking for. He grunted as the item proved difficult to locate, but finally, he gripped it, and pulled the rectangular box out, brandishing it. He tipped out the contents, an array of multi-coloured foils packets, falling over his bed. In an almost demented fashion, he began ripping them open and inspecting the rubbers individually. "Maybe they're faulty, have a hole in them or something!" He said as he tossed one of the condoms, a red one, over his shoulder, after finding nothing wrong with it.

"Troy!" I said, trying to stop him.

"If it was really small, just like… a little dot or something, we wouldn't have seen it!" He tore open more packages; three…four…five.

"Dammit, Troy!" In my head a joke occurred to me and I considered repeating it, telling him that he was wasting perfectly good condoms, but I looked at him in his frantically panicked state, and decided that it wasn't the time. "Troy, stop!" I yelled, grabbing his hands and fixing them in place, getting him to calm down. "It's not the condoms, Troy. I mean…in a way, it is, but not in the sense that something was wrong with them…it just... happens sometimes." My voice was a small whisper as his eyes locked on mine and was sighed together and then sat in the deafening silence.

******

"Troy?" I asked. I was buying myself some time, to be honest, cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to ask. "Troy," he looked up at me, and I felt my stomach lurch, whether it was pain or morning sickness, I wasn't sure, but I didn't throw up, so I kept talking - or, attempting to talk, at least. "What…what do you want?" I couldn't bring myself to actually ask the question, so I hoped he knew me well enough to see what I was asking. His face faltered for a second and then I saw it dawn on him.

"Gabriella, we're in high school, we're kids ourselves, we don't know how to raise a child." He said slowly.

I pulled my hands closer to my body, away from him as I listened. I felt my muscles tighten at the suggestion he was approaching, I couldn't believe it. I knew it'd be hard, but I thought I'd chosen the right guy, that he'd stay by my side, by the side of our baby, but, no, here he was, suggesting, in the most subtle manner, that I get rid of it! How the hell the did misjudge him so much? I zoned back into his chatter, listening for the end - not that I cared what else he had to say, I just wanted to make sure I was present enough when he finished to I could tell him where to stick it.

"…I don't know if I can be a father, Gabi. It's your body, and I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do," Bastard, trying to make out he has principals - that's rich! "But…" here it comes. "I don't want to be the person that stops this baby getting a chance at life."

It was my turn to freeze. I was sure I was misunderstanding him. "What?" I choked.

"I'm scared, Gabriella, scared as hell. I'm scared that having this baby's going to be the biggest mistake, but…it's my - our - baby, and that's all that matters to me. Whatever you decide…it's your decision, but if you're keeping the baby, then you won't be alone…it'll be me and you," he paused and then amended his sentence; "the three of us."

I dove into his arms and he caught me quickly, his arm at gently rubbing the back of my head as I sobbed against his chest.

"It's okay, Brie, it's okay. It'll all be okay."

I heard his voice dip at that last statement, and I knew he was worried, but that didn't matter to me so much right now, because we were in this together, as he said: the three of us. I hadn't misjudged him after all.

******

I didn't know how long I'd been crying - minutes, hours - but by the time I'd stopped - heaving me head off of Troy soaked chest - I felt completely drained. "I love you." I whispered to Troy, my voice scratchy after all of the crying.

"I love you too." He replied, hugging me again and wiping a few tears from my cheek before kissing me against my temple.

"I'm scared, Troy," I whispered, my voice weak, empty. Troy nodded, and squeezed my waist comfortingly. "They're going to hate me," I said, burgeoning tears showing themselves again.

"What? No, Gabi! No body's going to hate you! Who could _possibly_ hate you?" He demanded, his eyebrows creasing to new depths as my chest heaved with erratic breaths as I tried to calm myself and fight the onslaught of tears.

"My Mom; everything she did, especially after my Dad died, to make sure I was okay, to make sure I was happy, and I've just let her down, she's going to think she wasted her time on me. Your Dad;" Troy flinched at this quickly, surprised. "He's going to think he was right, I've messed everything up for you. He never like me when we first me cuz he thought I was distracting you from your basketball and he's right, look what I've done!" I began to cry again.

"Hey, no!" Troy said, forcing my lolling head up to look at him as he wiped my tears away. "Listen, Gabi, look at me," I allowed my eyes open the tiniest bit. "No one's going to hate you, okay? You've got to stop thinking that. Yeah, our parents will be disappointed - I'd think it was weird if they weren't. They'll yell, get mad, yell some more, but when it comes down to it? They'll be there for us, making sure we're prepared - even if it is tough love. They aren't going to let our mistake dictate how they treat their grandchild, you know that. They're our parents, unconditional love, just like we're going to give the baby, right?"

"What about your Dad?"

He shrugged and laughed a little, but the laugh was empty. "Ah, you know," the corner of his lips pulled down in synchronization with a shrug. "He'll yell, told me he taught me better, probably give me the cold shoulder for a few days and then go into over drive being tough on me, but ultimately it'll all be to make sure I'm ready for such a huge responsibility, that I don't mess up. And then he'll be a doting Grandpa when the time comes, and our little girl will be wrapping him around her tiny little finger." He laughed with a broad, distant smile as he pictured the image in his head.

"Little _girl?"_ I questioned, cocking my head to the side to get a better view of him as I quirked my brow and smirked.

Nodding confidently, Troy said, "Yup. I'm totally picking up a girl vibe, and you know what? She's going to look just like you, a mini me." He brushed his hand over my stomach my skin tingled. "It's a Dad thing, you know, we can totally tell." I sighed at the way he already called himself a dad, and hugged him, kissing his t-shirt clad chest. "We'll be alright." He whispered finally.

I couldn't say the last time I slept, but for those few hours, as Troy cradled me in his arms, and I drifted gently into sleep with the help of the hum of his thrumming heart, my life felt perfect. I knew it wouldn't last long, that the second I woke, the tribulations of my coming life would be knocking at the door, demanding I deal with them, but for now, and that was all I needed for that moment, I was safe, loved, and I wasn't alone. I had the power to handle whatever came next, not because I was strong enough on my own, but because I was standing with Troy, carrying our baby.

The power of three.


	3. Secrets and Lies

**Hope you like :D  
Worked hard on this, so please review!**

**Rated M for strong lanuage**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything**

* * *

I'd found myself subconsciously pacing around my room, at a loss what to do with myself now that Troy wasn't about to calm me, soothe my worries - albeit temporarily. We'd spent most of the afternoon talking, trying to order things. We'd slept for a few hours when the strain of planning took its toll on us, and then after eating - Troy grilled himself two large burgers, I settled for a few glasses of smoothie as it was the only thing I could guarantee to keep down - Troy gave me a ride home - I'd told him that I'd walk cuz I needed the air, but he'd insisted.

_"_My_ mom's not back till real late," _I'd said to him as he cut the engine. _"Will you come over… talk?" _It was quite funny really. Of late, whenever either of us had said anything similar, 'talk' had always been a by-word for 'sex', ironically, had we really been talking all those times, we _wouldn't_ be talking now - excuse me if my thoughts aren't making any sense, it think it's the hormones.

He'd agreed to come over when he was done. I knew exactly where he was going - partly because I over heard him on the phone when I was leaving the bathroom at his place, and partly because he always had the same routine when he had to clear his mind. He'd be at the court for a few hours with Chad, trying to divert his stress into practice but failing miserably; shot after shot flying pass the hoop. Sometimes, I found that side of him really comforting, his predictability in certain situations reassuring. _"I won't be long," he said, "I just need…I need some time."_ He'd said nervously, I assumed feeling bad telling me that _he'd_ need time. But, I didn't begrudge him that - I'm feeling a lot more understanding than I was a few hours ago. I knew how big this was for him too, how much this would also impact on his life, and I wanted him to be okay too, to be able to focus. Quite selfishly, I need him to be okay, cuz I can't do this on my own.

"_Troy,"_ I said as my right foot stretched out of the truck, touching down on the warm concrete. _"Taylor knows."_ I didn't tell him out right that he could tell Chad, and I knew he wouldn't without my being okay with it.

"_Oh,"_ he replied. "_Right."_ he nodded and gave me a small smile and I saw just a little of the weight lift off his shoulders now that he was able to tell somebody.

I had someone to talk to, why shouldn't he?

******

I was as exhausted as hell but I kept pushing myself. I don't know why, but I always have. It's how I cope. I push everything to the back of my mind and throw myself into something else. People find it weird, tell me it's unhealthy, but…whatever.

I could feel my body burning in the suffocating heat, but I wouldn't stop. It felt so good. I just kept stealing the ball from him, I was unstoppable when I played like this - not even Chad could stop me. I was in this weird zone; I could see him, hear him telling me to ease up, but it wasn't getting through, I wasn't hearing him.

"Jesus, man!"

He yelled finally, when I knocked into him a little hard. His tone of voice managed to snap me out of my sweating bubble and I shook my head, freeing myself from my thoughts for a moment, and then stuck my hand out in an apology. We took a break, about twenty silent minutes, after that, but soon enough we were playing again, giving out bodies what it craved, though this time it was much more gentle.

"Yo, dude," I suddenly said. I was standing behind him, a little to his right as he lined up his shot. I'd been waiting for him to make this damn shot for a good hour now, and…I don't know, something about the wait suddenly made me want to tell him.

"Yeah?" he said, but he didn't turn 'round, his arms were still suspended mid-air, his left eye closed to maximize precision.

"Gabi and me are havin' a kid." I said bluntly.

He didn't even miss a breath. "Bullshit," he said simply, his wrists flicking and shooting the ball. He paused to see the shot, analyzing it, then walked over to where the ball lay bouncing on the tarmac, it's thud getting lower as it bounced lower and lower off the ground until it finally stopped, just rolling slightly from side to side like a baby who hadn't learnt to crawl. "As if," he said, stooping to scoop the ball up and then finally turning to face me. "You would be so calm about it. As if you'd just tell me like that. Nice joke, Bolton, but I'm immune now, nothing you were going to say was gonna make me miss that shot."

He threw the ball across to me, but I didn't have the energy to lift my arms, so it just thumped loudly to the ground. "Ask Taylor, if you want." I said.

It was the mention of Taylor's name that got his attention. He knew that I wouldn't pull her into it if it was just a joke, I would've just laughed it off and moved on. He turned slowly and looked at me, his dark eyebrows joining.

"You're serious?" He said.

Nodding solemnly, I replied, "As a heart attack."

"Fuck, that's…that's freakin' huge, man."

"The reaction's a little late but, yeah, that's what I was hoping for."

"When d'ya find out?" he inquired, taking a huge gulp of water.

Seeing him drink suddenly made me conscious of the dry burning in my throat, slowly spreading to my chest, infecting my lungs. I mirrored his action and grabbed my water bottle, it being so hot, it'd warmed up and was no longer ice-cold, but it was still refreshing as it ran down my parched throat, over my dry lungs. Then, I went a step further, poring some of it over my head to cool myself, revelling in the feeling as it slipped down my face, cheeks, neck, and onto my bare chest. Shaking my hair free of the excess water - Gabi always says I look like a cute little kid when I flip my hair that way - I finally answered. "Few hours ago. Gabriella told me. She'd known for a few weeks but…I guess she was scared of how I'd react." I paused. "Makes sense, I guess, if I were a chick I'd be pretty afraid too."

"Yeah." Chad nodded vigorously in agreement. "So…you haven't told your parents or anything?"

"Nah, you and Taylor are the only ones that know. Man, we don't have a clue how to tell them. They're gonna freak spectacularly." I shook my head.

"How's Gabi doing?"

"I don't even know what to do or say, right now. Usually, if she's mad or upset or whatever, I can calm her and make her feel better - I don't know how, but I just can. But, today? I've never seen her cry so much," I could feel my throat tightening, but I wasn't going to cry. "The tears just kept coming. There'd be times when she'd be alright for a half hour or so, I could kid myself that things actually weren't that bad, and then, it was like she'd suddenly remember everything and just start bawling again…and I don't know how to stop it." The last bit of my sentence was more me whispering to myself, my eyes fixing on the floor as I tried to make sense of it. "And she keeps blaming herself, y'know? And that's harder than anything…I just wanna fix it."

"What about you? How are you doing? I mean, you've spoken about how Gabi is but you must've taken it pretty hard too."

I'd been bouncing the ball effortlessly, my hand keeping a steady rhythm as I spoke, the smacking of the tight rubber against the ground acting as background music. Two kids came up to us, they were about seven and five. The eldest - I assumed they were brothers, they had the same chocolate coloured eyes and dimpled smile - shuffled towards us nervously, ushering the youngest ahead of him.

"Excuse me," the youngest said, his voice kinda high.

"'Sup?" I asked.

"Go on." The eldest whispered, nudging him in his back.

"Umm…" he looked down at the ground, playing with the ties on his shorts and then looked up at me and Chad again.

"What is it, little guy?" Chad asked.

"Our ball's flat. Do you have a pump please?"

I laughed at his politeness, and then walked a little closer to him. I got down on one knee so we were level - I didn't want to intimidate him. "Sorry, dude, don't have one,"

"Oh, thank you anyway," the older on said, his hair flopping down over his eyes.

"But, I'll tell you what," I kept glancing between the two of them, smiling. "We're gonna be here for a while, and we aren't playing much anymore, so, if you like," I bounced the ball once and then stretched it to the younger one who beamed at me. "You guys can play with this one 'till you leave, how 'bout that?"

"Serious?" the eldest finally burst out of his shell, his astounded exclamation made me chuckle. It felt good to do that.

"Yeah, dude. Long as you bring it back, it's cool." Finally they took it, spinning it over and check out my markings.

"Thanks." They both said together.

"No problem. Hey, gimme five." They each smacked their palms against my hand and I laughed. "Alright." I said and ruffled the little guy's hair. "Enjoy!" I shouted as they jogged off together.

"Whoa, you're pretty good at that." Chad observed once I turned back to him.

"It's nothing. Where were we?"

"I asked how you were doing." Chad replied.

The little energy burst those little kids gave me died away and I went and slumped by the metal fencing, my eyes close with my head against the wire, my legs drawn up and spread wide apart and my arms hanging lifelessly over my knees. It was only when Chad asked me how I was feeling, that I realised that I'd gone through the shock and freak out, but other than that, hadn't actually asked myself what was going on with me. "It's all so fucked up." I simply said, not bothering to open my eyes. "It's all my fault. I should've just left her alone. That first fight we had just before the auditions, I should've just left her alone. We wouldn't be here if I had. She would've gone on, nothing like this would've happened, and then she would've graduated. Gabriella doesn't deserve this, she doesn't. She isn't that kind of girl - for God's sakes she was sixteen when we first met and I was her first kiss! She doesn't sleep around or throw herself after anything in a pair of pants, she's a good girl. She would've had the world at her feet, picked any job she wanted, but now…I've fucked it all up for her. I should've just left her alone."

"Dude, you can't think like that."

"Why not?" I asked, my eyelids pulling open. "It's completely true. None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for me." Gabi'd get seriously pissed if she knew I was keeping things from her, but it was for the best that I didn't burden her, I didn't want to think she was stressing herself out over me.

"Come on, even if you hadn't gone and apologized that time you guys would've gotten back together. That's how the two of you are - drawn together. Look how happy you make each other," he said. "No matter what, the two of you would just keep coming together; two magnets. I bet if you spoke to Gabriella she'd tell you that you were being an idiot, tell you how she wouldn't change anything for the world. Just speak to her."

"I can't. I'm 'sposed to be the guy, the protector - especially now. How can I tell her it'll all be okay while I'm falling apart? No." I shook my head. "I have to be strong for Gabriella. My shit's gonna have to wait."

******

The little white card trembled in my fingers. I'd looked at it for so long that the letters and digits had begun to blur. It was like doing it, actually picking up the phone, punching the numbers in and making the appointment, it'd make it seem real, dispel any notion that it was just a freakish dream. There'd be no turning back. Filling my lung with a ton of air, I dialled real fast, my fingers working before my brain could act.

There was a chirping ring.

Again.

Again.

As I was about to hang up, the ringing stopped and for a brief second, there was silence, before a familiar voice. "Dr. Johnson, Millwood clinic. How may I help you?"

I blanked. Nothing came to mind and I kicked myself for my stupidity. My mouth opened but nothing but stilled breaths left the hole.

"Hello?" she asked again. Then, her voice turned stern. "Hello? If this is a prank call then I'm about to hang up. If you don't say anything in five seconds…"

She went on to count down, but still nothing would come.

"Okay,"

"Wait!" I blurted out.

"Hello?" She asked curiously, her original, soft voice back.

"Dr. Johnson, it's me…it's…umm…Montez…Gabriella." I finally accomplished.

"Miss Montez?"

"Uh-huh." I said weakly. "You said that…that if I wanted to talk or…umm…"

"It's okay, it's okay, I don't mind that you called. I'm quite glad, actually, what can I do to help you?"

"Well…I was hoping that you…I'll be due for a scan in a few days, I was hoping that maybe…if you wouldn't mind, I mean, I know you aren't my official doctor but…"

"You'd like me to do your ultra-sound?"

"Yes. If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course I wouldn't. It's a new life for the world, why would I object?" there was a short silence and then she asked, "Will the father or your mother be present."

There she was again with her subtle questioning. "Well…Troy - he's the father - yeah, he'll be there. Umm…my Mom…that I don't know about."

"So you haven't told your parents yet?"

"Not exactly…but we're working out how to," I added hastily. "We're just…getting our head around it right now, but, we will…soon."

"The longer you leave it the harder it will be, Gabriella."

"I've only just told Troy and that was super huge for me. I just need to catch my breath before I go through that again." There was a picture of me as a little baby, practically fresh into the world, my parents are holding me and I'm asleep, my eye caught that I little smile tugged at my lips. It was then I realised that it was the first time that I'd actually felt good about this baby.

"Fair enough." Her voice muffled a bit, but I heard her telling someone to give her a second before her next patient.

"No, it's fine," I said. "I'll let you go. Thank you for everything you said to me before, Dr. Johnson."

"That's what I'm here for."

"I know…but…thanks."

"No problem. I'll put you through to the front desk and you can book your appointment."

"Oh, okay, thanks again. Bye."

******

"So…umm…" I began, as Troy sat down and casually lifted me from my seat beside him and put me in his lap - I guess he felt the need to be close to me just as I did with him. "I booked the first scan earlier." I didn't look at him, I just spoke with my head laying on his chest, my fingers playing with his shirt. He smelled kinda sweaty after all that time practising, but I didn't mind too much.

"Yeah? Wow. It makes it seem more real, huh?"

"Yeah." I said meekly.

"So…can I come?"

"What? Of course you can!" I laughed. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Well, I don't know what happens at those things, maybe it'd be best if I didn't. I mean, you'll be there and they'll be…checking you out and stuff and…"

"Troy?" I looked up at him and rolled my eyes affectionately at his adorable awkwardness. "What do you think happens at an ultra-sound? It's not a gynaecologist, you know? They'll put stuff on my stomach - and now where else," I giggled.

"Ohhh! When you said scan, I thought you meant…well I…I don't know." He mumbled. "I guess I'm tired. …Babe?"

"Yeah?" I noticed his sudden grave tone.

"I know that…that it's going to be hard but we're gonna have to tell them soon."

I knew what he meant, but for a moment, I wanted to play naïve so I could keep my emotions at bay. God, I'd been crying so much lately, I didn't thing there was anything left. "I know." I whispered. His cool lips pressed onto my forehead, and I felt his fingers under my chin, tilting it slowly upwards until I could see him. "I know." I said again, answering the question that he didn't voice.

"It'll be okay."

"No it won't," I said honestly. I'd lied so much in the past couple weeks and I'd be doing again shortly, so to be so honest at that point, to not have to pang of guilt in my chest, it felt beautiful. "But it has to be done."

"It _will_ be okay," Troy countered. "Just think positively."

"Troy," I felt my eyes narrow and darken and my body tensed, part of it no longer wanting to be in his lap, the other part, though, the majority, still craving his warmth. "I'm going to tell my Mom, your Mom and Dad that I'm pregnant, that in a few months their seventeen year old kids are going to be parents and what you want me to think '_positively'?_ Excuse me, just for a second, if I'm not really in that place right now. God," I clenched my fist and glared at him. "Do you not get it?"

"What did you just say? You don't think I get this? That I can't see how fucking huge and messed up this is?"

I jumped off of his lap, angered tears were running down my cheeks but I didn't bother wipe them away. I can't say I was shocked. It was understandable that this would happen sooner or later. We were both sitting on a whole lot of bottled up emotion, the pressure building to a place where even the slightest tap on the bottle was going to make it erupt, sending almost un-containable bubbles flying. "No, I think you don't get how I'm feeling. How the hell can you tell me to think positively!? What, you think this is going to go down easy with them?"

"Of course I don't! We screwed up, I know that! I just…dammit." I saw the regret in his eyes, somehow making me feel guilty too. He looked at me so softly, I almost felt as though I could feel his arms wrapping themselves around me. "I don't wanna fight, Brie, not now."

"Me either. I just…I need time to figure out what I'm feeling. I know you're trying to do your best but…that just wasn't what I needed."

"Sorry," he walked over to me, and my body melted into his when he closed in on me, no part of me resisting his touch. I sighed, relieved.

"I love you." I said. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but I felt I'd been saying that much more since I told him about the baby, as though it was more important to me now that he was completely aware of just how much I loved, needed and appreciated him.

"Baby, I love you too," his lips pressed into my forehead, remaining there for a long while. "Always."

Neither of us spoke for a long while. Troy was the first to break the silence - once he was completely sure my hormones had settled and I was back to my usual self.

"When?" he asked. We were say back on the couch. I wasn't sitting on him this time, just very close beside him, my arms curling around his waist.

"After the scan. I'll either feel amazing or terrible once we've actually seen the baby - I'm not sure which way I'll go - but it'll be definite by then - in my mind, I mean."

"So…when we get back?" he asked softly, clearly trying to not push me too hard.

"When we get back. Pinkie." I lifted one of my hands from his waist, and raised it. He smiled genuinely and gave me his hand, our pinkies curling together, fitting perfectly just like our bodies had done on so many occasions.

That was it. No delaying it after that day. It was now, by that simple gesture, set it stone. We had two days

******

I tried to make a quick dash, only shouting a goodbye as I closed the door behind me, but it didn't work. I groaned.

"Gabi? Where are you going, sweetie?"

My Mom appeared from the kitchen, walking down the hall to where I stood at the front door. Her curly hair (the same deep brown colour as mine) bounced as she came closer, the light blusher on her cheeks emphasising her smile. "Oh…well…" I was rebelling against the lie that was on my lips, but ultimately, I knew I didn't have a choice and I let the words flow out. "Troy's taking me on a date." The guilt stabbed me with each word as I crossed my fingers behind my back.

"Ooh!" she smiled.

God, why did she have to been so damn happy today? I felt like complete shit lying to her

"Anywhere nice?"

I tried to shrug but my shoulders didn't move too much - I could literally feel the weight on them. "You know Troy," I tried to laugh. "It's a surprise. We won't be too late, though."

"Oh well, enjoy yourselves." She hugged me.

"Thanks. Actually, Mom?" I felt like I was going to vomit, but I got the words out before that happened. "Do you think…umm…we were saying how we should get together. Troy said his parent's aren't doing anything tonight so…maybe…maybe we could all have dinner…here?"

"Sounds like a great idea, honey," I really wished she'd stop calling me that, especially when I knew tonight was going to break her heart. "I'll call over there in a little bit. Anything in particular you'd wanna eat, I don't have any ideas."

"Anything's good." I said, my voice breaking a little. "I better go." I choked the words before I left and ran to the corner of the street where Troy was waiting in his truck. I flung my arms around his neck and he squeezed me so tight - it felt amazing. I didn't speak cuz I knew I couldn't and I didn't want to walk into the surgery with my eyes all red and puffy.

The entire journey was silent, my hand on Troy's leg the whole way. A nurse, small with a Spanish accent called from behind the desk shortly after our arrival:

"Gabriella Montez? Miss Gabriella Montez?"

Troy and I rose slowly, and I could've balled when I felt him take my hand, that simple gesture meant the world to me. Gradually we walked together, Troy taking the lead and rapping lightly on the door.

"I'm here." He whispered comfortingly as Dr. Johnson's voice told us to enter from the other side of the door.

We walked in and she smiled at us, shaking both of our hands as Troy introduced himself. The room smelt sterile, I guessed she'd been preparing the tools. My nose twitched at the scent.

"Gabriella," she said her hand gesturing towards the stark white bed. "If you could just take a seat and lie back, we can take a look at this little baby of yours."

Troy held my hand the entire way, fluffing the pillows as my head nestled into them. I hissed as the cold jelly hit my stomach and Dr. Johnson assured me that I wouldn't feel any pain, that it'd be simple. As the ice-cold substance was spread over the lower part of my belly I continued to wince, my eyes closing trying to shut the discomfort out as my face contorted. This continued for a while until I felt Troy's face move closer to mine, saw the light dim behind my eyelids as he cast his shadow over me.

"Look, Gabi," he said softly, his lips close to my ear. "That's our baby."

* * *

**Aww they saw the baby lol  
Please review whether you liked it or not :)**


	4. Disappoint the Parents

SORRY! In my defence, I'm completely without blame for taking so long to update; blame my computer and the programmes that screwed it up for me lol. Kay, I really hope you like this coz it's a pretty big chapter. Keep the reviews coming!

**Rated M for language a possible sexual scenes**

**Disclaimer: If I own nothing. If I did, I'd be on a private beach somewhere hot...hmm...maybe Turks and Caicos ;)**

* * *

I was facing an unconquerable challenge; it taunted me relentlessly, yet, I couldn't accomplish the task at hand.

A bowl of freakin' spaghetti.

"Gabi? Gabi, sweetie, are you okay?" Mom's voice was so sweet, tender. My heart broke knowing what I was going to tell her later. "You haven't touched any of your dinner," she tried again. "Is everything alright?"

The forkful of spaghetti I'd tried to force down had gotten wedged in my throat; I gulped down half a glass of water trying to dislodge the half-chewed food. "Yeah," I said, finally. "I'm not that hungry," Lie. "I had a pretty big lunch." And another.

Mom suggested that I cover it up in case I got hungry later and I agreed, weakly standing and going through the motions, all the while feeling Troy's burning gaze drilling into my back. I sat back at the table, avoiding the eyes of everyone, but soon enough my weird mood was noticed.

"Gabriella," Troy's mom said. "You're looking a little pale." She turned to my mom as if I wasn't there and capable of speaking for myself - ignore that; it's the hormonal, pregnant teenager talking, not me. She asked, "What did the doctor say when you took her?"

My mom's reply faded into the background and the next thing I knew, her palm was across my forehead - I flinched it was so cold. "Ma, will you quit fussing? I'm not sick!" I snapped, feeling guilty immediately. Her eyes locked on mine with chilling precision. "I'm sorry," I mumbled honestly. "I just…I'm not sick…honest." It was one of the few truths I'd told all day.

"Then tell me what's going on," she demanded. "You've been throwing up these last two weeks, the doctor says it's nothing to worry about, that it'd pass," I knew she wasn't mad, only worried; she had every right to be, I guess. She shook her head as she spoke, running her hand through her dark hair - yeah, I've got a lot of her mannerisms. "You're hardly out of your room these days and now you aren't eating?" Her statements turned into questioning and she raised her eyebrows at me. "What's happening, Gabi?" she asked softly. I hadn't realised how much I'd been on her mind until now. The knowledge that I'd put her under so much stress these last couple weeks (and still more to come) made me feel sick, my stomach clenching continuously.

Under the table, I felt my hand get cradled by Troy's, he squeezed mine tightly into his palm, and for the first time during dinner I looked over at him. He nodded. Our silent exchange hadn't been missed by our parents and they all began staring at the two of us intently, with intrigue.

"I haven't been sick," I began. My eyes were already pricked with hot tears and as I stared down at the table, it blurred before me. My voice was shaking, my mouth dry and my hands sweaty and trembling, but I had to do it. What choice did I have? "I mean, I was…I was sick…technically, but not like…really sick…you know?" I was spouting a whole lot of crap right now and I knew it, but our parents seemed to realise that asking me what the hell I was talking about wasn't quite right for this situation and just let me go on, rambling 'till I was done. "The thing is…umm…well…"

"I'm here, Gabi," Troy whispered, loud enough that only I heard.

"I'm pregnant." My voice sounded so alien. It was like someone else, someone weak and frail, had spoken instead of me. "I'm having a baby." I don't know why I always feel the need to clarify that, I think they get what the word 'pregnant' means.

******

The room had been silent for too long. I looked around the table at the three stunned faces. "Ma?" I probed. "Say something…please…please." On the final 'please' I felt a single tear singe my cheek.

"What is it you want me to say, Gabriella?" Ouch, Gabriella, Mom hasn't called me that since…God, I don't know when. "Congratulations? When's it due?"

I flinched at her acid sarcasm and Troy's arm slipped around my waist, squeezing intermittently.

"Tell me. What? What do you want me to say?" She snapped, her voice increasing in volume.

"I don't know." I began to sob, my face was scrunched up and wrinkled as I shook my head from side to side in defeat. "I don't know. I don't know…I don't know." Troy enveloped me in his arms and held on to me tightly whilst I wept. "Please don't." I gasped as my mom stood to leave. She paused at the door, our eyes connecting for a moment before she sighed in disappointment. "Please." But it was too late, she stepped away, and I felt like she took her love with her.

Mrs. Bolton was still in shock; her head had been laying in her hands since I'd told them. Mr. Bolton, however, wasn't muted in astonishment. His glare, unlike my mother's, was fixed on Troy rather than me. Troy's chest went rigid under my head and I could tell he had braced himself for father's tirade.

"After everything I warned you about?" To a stranger, he would have appeared unnaturally calm. Not to us, though, we knew this was when Mr. Bolton was at his worst. "All our conversations, our plans; night after night we spoke about you keeping your head down, screwed on and this is where it all got you?"

Troy swallowed, trying to keep his composure and not allow his dad to render him weak. "We never meant for this to happen," he attempted, only to get cut off again.

"And that's going to fix this, is it? That it was a mistake, an accident? It's too late, Troy, it's done now and you can never take this back."

For the next hour or so, I sat, sobbing at intervals, while Mr. Bolton eloquently denounced Troy, in several different ways, as an idiotic disappointment. Again, I was spoken around as though I wasn't there, Troy baring the brunt of his father's criticisms. When Troy's knuckles balled tightly under the table, I was starting to worry that he wasn't going to hold out much longer and that he might have said something to his dad that he would regret. I reckon Mrs. Bolton saw this, too, cuz all of a sudden she told Mr. Bolton to quit it.

"Jack, that's enough." Her tone was one that nobody ever messed with.

"You think that's enough? Oh, I haven't even started, yet --"

"I said," her eyes flicked up at Troy's dad, and he seemed to get the message. "That," she said with an even pace. "Is enough."

******

We all sat in silence for God knows how long, Troy and I with our arms tangled around one another; his parents contemplating the news, I assumed. It was when mom came in that the silence slowly cracked. Her eyes were read and puffy, her skin pale like mine.

"The two of you have to have thought of some kind of plan," she spoke calmly as she resumed her seat at the dinner table, excepting as she spoke a glass of red wine that Troy's mom had poured out for her (she had one ready for herself also). "Let us hear it."

Troy and I separated, though his hand never released mine. He straightened his back and cleared his throat as though he were delivering a school presentation. "Well…umm…" I saw red weave from the back of his neck all the way to his cheeks as three pairs of eyes fixed on him. "We figured that, with the money we earned working last summer and some of the cash from our college funds, we can get a small place,"

Mrs. Bolton sighed and her eyes closed for a minute or two; she had always told Troy not to rent a place but to save his money until he could afford a mortgage. Renting was a vicious cycle, she had said.

"…One bedroom - if we're lucky, two."

"What are you going to do for money? And when you use your college fund, what then?" Mr. Bolton wasn't being funny this time, he was truly just asking us about our future.

"I'll get a job. I was thinking I could set up, I don't know, like a basketball training club or something, for little kids; a few days a week in the park, that kinda thing. As for college," he handled the questions well, answering then one at a time. "I accept that scholarship from U of A, I still get to study and Gabi, well…" he started to get a little flustered, so I stepped in and gave him a hand.

"I…" my voice was real scratchy after all the crying. I took some water and started over. "Principal Matsui's always offering me the chance to graduate early - he says it'll look good for East High and for me - I'm going to tell him that I want to do it. After that I'll take some classes at U of A for as long as I can until…" my eyes fell to the table momentarily. "Until the baby comes."

"Gabriella," Troy's dad, for the first time in what felt like ages, addressed me. "You're an incredibly intelligent young woman but in the world of work, that alone isn't going to help you. You have the ability, but without those qualifications down on paper you'll just fall into the category of being a young mother with nothing but a high school diploma," he told me softly, almost as though he was apologizing.

"I know," I said honestly. "But right now it's all we've got. Eventually I'll attend college - online maybe - but that wont be an option for a while." I was young, but I wasn't stupid, I knew that there was no way I'd be able to study seriously with a young baby to look after, so once she was born (Troy's managed to convince me that it's a girl) my academics will have to go on hold for a while.

******

I just sat there and let the air coat me. The night was kinda warm, it heading into summer an' all. It was nice. I held the sonogram between my fingers and let my head fall back against the brick wall. Our garden was a nice place to just think…be.

"Hi," I heard mom say softly.

Looking up, allowing my eyes to readjust to the darkness, I saw her silhouette standing over me, the porch lights softly glowing from behind. "Hey," I replied.

"Room for one more?"

Laughing a little, I scooted over on the bench so she had some room to sit, too. "Always." I tapped the space next to me and she soon occupied it. "Dad hates me, doesn't he?" I said after a while of awkward silence.

"Oh, Troy," she sighed. "Don't ever say that, do you hear me? You know that your Father could never, _ever_, hate you. Yes, he can be tough sometimes - a lot of the times - but he doesn't have it in him to hate you, you know that. He's just disappointed." Her hand reached over, patting my leg sympathetically. I half-smiled at how pale her hand appeared to be against the leg of my dark jeans.

"How about you?" I questioned, my eyes sought hers in the darkness.

She was getting kinda chilly cuz I saw her fold her arms and exhale sharply but I thought it had to do more with the conversation topic than any drop in temperature.

"My seventeen year old son and his girlfriend came home," she said, as though I was some stranger that didn't know where the story was heading. She rubbed her hand over the side of her face as if just the mention of what had happened earlier, exhausted her, induced her sleep. "Said they were expecting a baby." She stopped and looked at me; "What do I feel about that? I want to feel excited - it's the creation of a human life, our first grandchild - but instead I…I'm worried for the two of you; I'm scared of how you guys are going to make this work. It's a big deal, Troy and it isn't something you'll ever be able to fathom until you're actually there. Honestly?" She sighed again. "I just feel over-whelmed."

We were pretty quiet for a while after that; there wasn't really anything I could say back. My eyes had shut again; my head back against the wall.

"What's that you've got there?"

"Huh?" I'd been holding that little 'photo' for so long that I'd honestly forgotten I'd had it; my hands had adjusted to the feel, I guess - they'd gone numb. I looked down at it and my lips curved up…a little. "It's the baby," I said, my eyes still fixed on the image. To be honest, this early on you couldn't really make anything out - Gabriella wasn't even showing yet so it looked something like…a Sea Monkey (Brie tricked me into watching _Juno _a while back)but it looked like the most beautiful thing to me. "Wanna see?" I offered, and handed it over to mom.

"That's yours, huh?" she said in a floaty kind of voice.

"Yup. We got it today…the scan, I mean. Doctor says she's nice and healthy." I informed her.

"'She'? Unless technology has changed dramatically since you were born, I didn't think they could tell the sex of the baby this soon."

"Uhh…no…"I felt myself blushing. "They can't yet but…I don't know…I've kinda had this feeling that it's a girl since Gabi told me. Crazy, right?" I chuckled.

"No…you're Father said that you'd be a boy_._" She stood and left, saying goodnight.

I was kind of thrown at the way she suddenly left, but I didn't think much about it…then another shadow came over me.

Dad.

Unlike Mom, he didn't ask if he could join me, he just started talking.

"I apologize for some of the things I said, earlier," was the first thing I said.

"You were mad, I understand."

"You know, it feels like just the other day that you scored you first basket out here," he said afterward. I was kinda surprised; I was expecting more ranting, not this sentimental stuff.

"Well, I don't think that one counted, I was on your shoulders for the entire game."

He looked at me curiously. "You remembered that," he said.

"'Course."

"I guess it'll be you with the kid on your shoulders, now."

I could hear the sadness in his voice, a side I never really saw from my Dad. I stuttered, ya know? I'm his son after all, I don't know how to be all mushy…well, except with Gabi. "I…uhh…suppose…I mean…"

"You have no idea what it's going to be like,"

"So Mom tells me."

"You can't sleep properly, you'll start snapping at one another because she'll get hormonal and blame you for everything, money'll be tight; you wont be able to just hang out with your friends like you used to cuz you have to organize baby-sitters and think about what time you'll be getting home, how much it'll cost. And then, one night, you'll peek into the crib, you'll see this tiny, little baby and it will hit you: it's world revolves around you; it's one hundred per cent dependant on you. You ready for that?" he asked me earnestly.

In all honestly I replied, "No." Dad started to shake his head, running his hands through his hair the same way I do when I've got something on my mind. "But I will be," I promised. "Dad, we screwed up, believe me we know that, but we'll make this work - we will."

"I know that you've got good intentions, Troy, but…but I'm still afraid that, from this point on, you guys are just going to become a statistic; parents who had their baby in high school, couldn't cope, watched as their dreams escaped and just ended up…getting by."

He looked over at me and I shook my head. "No, that wont be us." He was about to say something to contradict that so I quickly continued. "Gabriella? She deserves the world, and I'm going to give it to her. She could have everything, y'know? I feel like I've taken so much away from her, but I promise, I'm gonna get it back - for her _and the baby - _no matter what."

* * *

Review!!

Ooh! It wasn't planned or anything, but I just realised (or re-remembered, I guess) the significance of today...**Happy Birthday Mr. E!!  
So, this chapter's for Zac 'Heattrob' Efron and for Hottie**** who got my computer working...__****MWAH**  



	5. Family Ties

**A/N Apologies for lack of updates for this fic, but have been very busy and wasn't able to make time for it. Hopefully my updates will become more frequent, but if not...you've been warned :P. Umm...I've said this loads of times before, but the number of reviews to the number of people that have added me/my fic to favourites is seriously disproportionate - please change that. I understand that people are busy, but honestly it means so much to an author to know whether their work is any good, or if it's a pile of turd. So please, review - especially you fellow authors, coz you guys know how important it is. Please excuse any mistakes made in reference to either the pregnancy development and the school calendar; as I've never had a child and I don't go to an American high school, for the most part I'm trying to keep these references vague (mostly with the school stuff, though, the pregnancy info the net has helped me with lol). This chapter moves quite quickly as I really want to get to the baby being born - that's not to say it's being rushed, because the story is following my desired pace. Finally, just to make it clear, this story is taking place directly after the first two hsm movies: the characters/circumstances of coming together are the same ie. Troy and Gabriella met on vacay and fell for each other during the musical :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All ideas are mine.**

**Rated: M for strong language, and possible sexual scenes**

* * *

I'm a little over four months, now. I'm starting to show. It's not huge - but it's definitely there. I woke up one morning and started to freak out when I felt it. I ran to my Mom and even though she wasn't half as excited as I was (to her seeing it, made the concept a little too real, I think.) she still admitted that she could see it. I was on the phone to Troy; immediately and he came over - literally breathless from having run all of the way from his house.

So now I've had to start watching what I wear in public cuz most people still don't know. Most days at school I wear a hoodie of Troy's, a shirt of Troy's - some garment belonging to Troy. I figured, people would be less suspicious about my suddenly wearing less fitting clothing - I'm not one to show skin or anything but I am a fan of tank tops and form-fitting blouses - if they just thought that I was feeling particularly loved up. I mean, in East High, every girl thinks it's completely normal that I'd want to flaunt the fact that Troy Bolton's my boyfriend. I've never been into Troy because of who he was - Golden Boy - but hell, if it helps me in this instance, I wont question it.

Troy and me had decided to tell our friends; Tay and Chad already knew and it was just easier if the rest of the group knew as well: had we not told them the four of us would be constantly on egg shells and I doubt either me or Troy would really be at ease, knowing that something so…freakin' huge was being kept from them. Things were quite awkward for the first week or so after they found out; they all started treating me like a was some fragile piece of china that could shatter at any moment and none of them could adjust to my mood swings. Now, though, they know they can relax around me - make the same jokes, have them same conversations; just be them - and they allow me to have those moments where I'll go from being my usual positive self to slipping into a depression.

We were all gathered around the lunch table in our usual formation; Troy and me together; Chad and Taylor together; and then Jason, Zeke and Martha (Kelsi and Ryan were with the drama club). I chuckled when Jason asked this random question and various scraps of food hit him in the head from Troy, Chad and Zeke. When the laughter died down, and Jason continued to brush chips out of his hair, Zeke glanced down at the table tentatively before raising his eyes to me; I felt the mood shift.

"So…how much longer are you going to be here, Gabi?" he asked, with a sadness that touched me; at my previous schools I'd never been there long enough to connect with people who would actually care when I moved on.

Troy squeezed my knee, almost asking if I was okay, and I smiled up at him gratefully. "Well, Matsui says I can get out of here before the end of the month." It is now April. "I'll get my diploma in the mail and then from there…well, I'm gonna take some classes at U of A until" - I dropped my voice - "…for as long as I can."

"Well," Chad said brightly, trying to restore a less stilted atmosphere. "We'll be giving you a true send off - East High-style," he nodded enthusiastically.

"Like hell you will!" Troy replied immediately. I felt my nose scrunch up the way it does when I'm confused. I didn't understand what was so bad about them wanting to give me a going away party - not that I was really going that far.

"What?" I asked.

"I've been to East High send offs - hell, I helped organize half of them. The night's always ended with the poor guy being driven home with a bag in his lap so he doesn't puke in the car of whoever's driving. Babe, these parties aren't a good thing…especially," he continued in a hushed voice, scanning the tables around us conspiratorially for eavesdroppers. "For you."

"Oh, yeah, right," Chad said solemnly, "I guess we have to think about that now."

Everyone at the table was suddenly real quiet and I felt myself sinking back into this dark place because of it. Sometimes, I'd feel really excited, you know, the prospect of bringing a new life into this world instils a pride in you like you'd never believe, but then…other times…I think of how things will change for me - for everyone. Then I start to feel guilty for thinking that way and things just get messy - usually tears are involved - and I can't really handle so many emotions at once. I reckon if I don't get a handle on them, I'll be a schizophrenic by the time the baby gets here - a nervous wreck at the very best.

Someone started up some random conversation and I joined in with the laughter at all of the appropriate moments but my heart wasn't really in it; my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of our future.

"Did you see P!nk at the Grammy's, though?" I questioned when we were discussing what makes a good performer. "Gaga's good an' all but only P!nk can do a show like that. How the heck did she manage to keep singing while up at that height, spinning - _backwards_!" In unison they all began to agree while Tay and me did almost a play-by-play of the performance.

"And that body suit she was wearing wasn't half bad, either," Zeke commented and laughed knowingly when the rest of the guys groaned simultaneously in agreement and extended their fists to connect with one another's.

I started to roll my eyes, when this overwhelming scent of fish hit me. I don't know where the hell it came from but all of a sudden I started to feel the bile rising form my stomach; my mouth was violently springing water and my head was spinning. Vaguely, I heard Troy's questioning voice:

"Gabi? Gabi, babe." He was shaking me ever so slightly, tipping my head upwards so he could see my eyes. "Babe?" I kept my mouth shut, scared that the second I parted my lips, I'd embarrass myself by throwing up in front of half the school. I felt my eyes widen and Troy's did, too, at the sight of my now pale, sickly skin. "Oh, shit," he murmured.

My temperature must've dropped way below zero. I was shivering, attempting to wrap my arms around my body to trap the fast escaping heat. That's when I started to shake…I knew there was no turning it around. I sprung from the table, rushing through the cafeteria and not caring as I bashed into people, who yelled at me as a response to their food sliding off their trays and onto the cafeteria floor. Behind me, I could hear Troy's footsteps and his sincere voice as he apologized on my behalf. I didn't need to look back, to know that he was following me, knowing exactly where I was going - I was keeping my eyes set on the swing doors that would be my exit.

()()()

"Tay!" I called behind me as I chased after Gabriella. Jesus Christ, I couldn't believe this was happening in school. "Taylor!" I called again, encouraging Taylor to speed up. I knew Gabi was going to be sick and as I couldn't go into the chick's bathroom - for obvious reasons - I needed Taylor to come with. As Gabi ran through the cafeteria, she barged into a whole bunch of people, who understandably were pissed when their lunch went all over the place; I did my best to apologize as we ran after her. I allowed my speed to drop once we were out into the corridor as I was able to see which bathroom she was headed to by that stage, so there was no risk of us losing sight of her.

Taylor pushed the door open with force when we got to the bathroom - it almost swung off it's hinges. Immediately she went over to the cubical where the door was ajar as I waited by the bathroom door. I winced every time I heard Gabriella's wretched heaves; then the sounds of her sobs began to merge with her shaky, gasping breaths and it broke my heart to hear it.

()()()

My head was still spinning as I knelt beside the toilet bowl; being sick at home, at Troy's or even Taylor's was one thing but the mere idea of throwing up in the school bathroom made me want to puke. My tears wet my cheeks and I could still taste that vile sour tang in my mouth, even though I'd stopped throwing up. I stayed in the cubical for a little while, just trying to calm myself - and to make absolute certain that no more vomit was coming - and I heard the sounds of Troy and Taylor arguing.

"You can't come in, Troy," Taylor insisted. "For goodness sakes, it's the girl's bathroom, are you crazy? People are bound to know that something's going on," she hissed.

"I don't give a goddamn. There isn't even anyone in here besides us, anyway. Who'll know?" Troy questioned. I heard a sigh and then the next thing I knew, Troy's palm was pressed against the base of my back, caressing gently in a comforting gesture.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered, handing me more tissue to wipe my tears and helping me to my feet and out of the cubical.

He followed me over to the sinks, his hand never leaving my back; he continued to pat and stroke the small of my back while I splashed some cold water on my face, rinsed my mouth out and then patted my face dry with a few paper towels that Tay had handed me. A small bag of sour worms appeared from behind me and I smiled - well, it wasn't really a smile at all…a twitching of my upper lip is more accurate. Troy knows that sour sweets make me feel better after I'm ill, and so he's developed the habit of keeping a couple bags with him each day. It's the small things like that that truly make me love him. I sucked on them, relishing the tang that made me wince, and Troy wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead, murmuring over and over that he loved me.

"I thought the morning sickness was over?" Taylor questioned.

I just shrugged feebly, not having the energy to do much else. "Supposedly. Mom says that the whole thing where certain smells make you nauseas are down to the screwed up hormones, so it will probably continue to happen even a little while after the baby's born," I explained. The idea of throwing up every time I smelt fish - fried egg and garlic, to name a few other things that have had that effect upon me - was draining; all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep but as we were only half way through the day, I knew that wasn't possible.

There was really nothing else to do; I thanked Tay for her help, stole a few more hugs from Troy while assuring him that I didn't need his Dad to excuse me from the rest of school - that I _was _actually okay - and pulled myself together.

Gabriella Montez had stuff to do.

()()()

Tuesday evening, I started to think back to Monday afternoon when Gabriella was throwing up at school. I started to remember that faint smell of cigarette in the toilets, starting to wonder whether I could've prevented what I was seeing now. Could it've made a difference? We all thought the bathroom was empty; neither Gabi or Tay knew. All this started to rush through my head when I logged onto Facebook.

After a solid hour of reading _'Babies for Dummies_' - a loving gift from Chad, believe it or not - I'd thought that I would take a break. Folding the page I had just finished reading, I put it down beside me on my bed and picked up my laptop. My legs were stretched out and my head lay against the head board - on the extra cushioning of my palm - as I waited for it to load up. The second it had, I got onto the internet, and hesitated for a moment before I made my choice: multiple tabs - hotmail; facebook ; americanbabystore.

I checked my emails and nothing important was there so that tab was closed after two minutes, then I moved to Facebook and I swear to God, I think I temporarily died when I saw the messages on my wall:

Jeremy Witman says : _Dude, are u really havin a kid?_

Fin 'Big Man' Johnson says: _heya Daddy Bolton_

There were like fifty messages like that, and I couldn't get my head around what the hell was going on. How did they find out about the baby? I know nobody we have told would have let it out, so where had all this come from? I started stuffing me feet into my converse getting ready to go see Gabi before she found out from someone else and ran down stairs. Dad was telling me that it was too late to leave the house but the second I told him what had happened, he not only gave me permission to leave, but extended my curfew by an hour, too.

()()()

Everyone was staring at me the next morning; even with Troy's arm wrapped around my waste as we made our way through the halls I felt insecure. It was as though I was standing there naked, exposed for all to see. When Troy had come over and told me last night, I don't quite remember what I thought; everything but the onslaught of tears is hazy in my memory and if it meant avoiding the pain of reliving that moment over and over, that's how I'd like it to stay.

I kept my eyes down at the floor the whole way to my locker. I focused on nothing but Troy's warmth and the scent that lingered on the grey hoodie of his that I was wearing (it was so big I felt as though it was swallowing me up, but I didn't care). Troy was really amazing, he just kept talking to me the whole way like nothing was happening; he made stupid jokes and whispered in my ear as usual, trying to help me block out the snide comments that floated towards us and the judgemental giggles coming from the popular girls and cheerleaders - the few that still hadn't accepted the fact that I, a 'braniac', was with Troy and moved on with their lives.

By lunchtime, absolutely everybody knew; and Chad said that he'd been told by Jason who'd been told by Carlos, who'd been told by Alan Johnson, who couldn't remember who he'd been told by (which made sense seeing as there seemed to be at least four thousand people - and that's just counting our school and West High - who knew), that Sam Smithson had over heard Troy, Taylor and me when we were in the bathrooms that day. She says that she'd been having a smoke in there when we were talking in there. I admit, I felt angry when I first found out; I thought she was interfering and just…out of order to go and tell people something so personal! Now, though, as weird as it sounds… I don't know what I feel towards her. Part of me is still mad at her for doing what she did, but another part of me is actually a little grateful: in a sense she's taken away something I'd been stressing over. Now everybody knows we don't have to worry about not having our conversations overheard or being seen buying stuff for the baby. So…maybe it was for the best.

()

In the middle of Mr. Riley asking us who wanted to come up to the board and answer the equation that he had just scrawled across the blackboard, the bell chimed, signalling lunch and everybody jumped up, bustling through the aisle in an attempt to get out of class first. It had been a week since everybody had found out that I was pregnant. I had been a week since anybody in my class had uttered a word to me. I didn't care much that they're were hypocritical assholes. If they wanted to be that way then I should be thankful that such people wouldn't be around me when I needed support more than anything and that their toxic attitudes wouldn't be around my baby. That's right, I don't care. But I do get overwhelmed, sometimes.

Now was one of those times. As everyone hurried out, I turned and bumped into Alan Fredericks. He's the 'nice' guy who doesn't talk much other than to tell a weird and nerdy joke or correct an incorrect science fact. I tried to apologize, but he didn't even stop, he just kept walking with his eyes right ahead as though I were invisible. Then when I moved to step away from him, I bashed my hip into the corner of my desk, cursed it, got my foot stuck around the leg of it and then felt my knees smack against the hard ground.

"Shit!" I hissed. My books and papers had gone flying everywhere; my notes were scattered all around and even then nobody stopped. I scrambled to collect my stuff off the ground and sniffed back the tears I felt coming. As I shuffled my papers together, I saw a shadow loom over me, and then Mr. Riley knelt down beside me. I didn't look up because I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes. He picked up the small piece of photographic paper, that was swirled with black, grey and white.

"I believe this belongs to you," he said, as he handed me the ultrasound.

Sniffing, I looked at him and nodded with a sad smile. "Yeah, it does," I said, taking it and gazing down at the image. I found that when I was feeling low, it made me feel a little better to see the baby, and as I couldn't run and get an ultrasound every time, I'd started carrying the scan around with me. "Thanks."

Mr. Riley, had always been a teacher I really liked. He'd been teaching for thirty five years, and I could definitely see why his previous students would have loved him. He was one of the few teachers that didn't give a damn about who was dating who, who was not talking to who: you completed your homework, bought it in on time and he was a happy guy. The other teachers, although the have done their best to hide it, have this…_thing _when they look at me now: this amalgamation of surprise and pity that betrays their thoughts when they smile happily at me as though nothing has changed. Not Mr. Riley, though, he treats me exactly as he used to. If I forget about the fact that Troy doesn't take this class, and that nobody talks to me while I'm here, this class is definitely my favourite.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently, still resting his weight on one knee.

"I'm freakin' fantastic, sir. Why? Is their a reason you think something would be wrong with me?" I asked sharply. He didn't reply. I suddenly felt like shit and shook my head, slumping against the edge of my desk. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you."

He reached over and squeezed my left shoulder. He had this really calm energy, like a guy you could never imagine flipping out. "I've a largely female family and seven kids of my own - I've experienced a hormonal woman," he chuckled. If you had to picture a teacher, you'd picture Mr. Riley; he always wore these pastel suits, and had these huge circular glasses that took up most of his face and were always slipping off his nose. Whenever he smiled, it was so genuine - his smile would conquer the rest of his face, his eyes disappearing into little beads - you couldn't help but smile back.

I smiled…a little. "Still, I'm sorry."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered, helping me off the ground and onto a chair and then getting one for himself; pulling a chair from under the desk across from me and scooting it across the aisle, until he was seated and inclined towards me.

"No," I mumbled. "Well…kind of…I don't know," I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "I'm just so screwed up."

"Go on," he implored; "Whatever you say is private."

My eyes flickered up to him, and them back down into my lap, where I directed my speech. "I just…this class is just full of hypocritical bast-idiots," I said candidly. "If I were some cheerleader…" my voice trembled a bit and I bit back the tears that threatened to fall. "They'd all be laughing about it. They'd be all, 'No surprise there, it was bound to happen eventually,' but because it's me, they somehow feel like I've let them down, and tarnished their reputation. They're so selfish! Not a single person in this class has asked how I am or anything; all they've done is ignored me and given me these disapproving looks." I shook my head resentfully. "I never planned this. I didn't want this to happen - and that isn't to say that I don't love this baby because I do and with all my heart - but if I thought anything about this situation, it's been that the people who'd called themselves my friends - people who'd call me all times of the night when they're panicking over a test - would support me." I realised I was crying again, but more out of anger than pain. I saw a handkerchief appear under my blurry eyes and I smiled and expected it. "But it's like they say, I guess," I said as I was dabbing my cheeks, "Every man for themselves."

Mr. Riley gently patted my knee with his large, heavy hand and when I looked up he was smiling at me; not his usual beam that transformed his face into that of a ten year old kid, but a warm, gentle, comforting smile - a smile I needed.

"I have had the absolute pleasure of having you as a student of mine for the past year," he began earnestly. "I don't try to 'relate' to my students as some other teachers do; I hope that we are able to have a mutual respect for each other without patronizing my students. But, I do take note of those I teach. What I know about you, Miss Montez, is that you have a good head on your shoulders." I smiled slightly. "You're a strong little one, aren't you?" he joked, with a balled fist as he made a quip about me being 'small but mighty'. "I see the way you handle yourself around this school, the way you handle other people - and I have no doubt that you will do great things in your life; sometimes we trip up, yes, but then we stand, dust the rubble off our pants, and we keep moving. I know that you have the capability to do that. There will always be people who will dislike us for the decisions we make in life - I'm going to be seventy on my next birthday and my mother still disapproves of the fact that I didn't pursue a career in medicine like my other siblings did…but I'm happy teaching. My point is that, you have to live your life for you. That's the only way you can succeed - and what you're doing?" his eyes flickered down to my stomach. "It take guts." He stared at me, long and hard for the next few moments, nodded firmly at me and then rose.

"Well," the sound of his palm clasping together bounced off the walls, deafeningly. "I've got to run, but you feel free to stay until you've gathered yourself," he offered. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, I assume."

I nodded as he headed towards the door. His left hand grasped the metal door knob and I said, "Mr. Riley?" he turned and looked at me with raised, expectant brows. "Thank you."

()()()

"Sorry dude," I said as I bumped into some guy as I jogged through the halls, trying to keep track of the balding head that jutted out among the heads of East High students.

"Mr. Riley!" I called, but he kept moving away from me. "Mr. Riley! Hey, Mr. Riley!" Finally I caught up with him, tapping him on his shoulder. He turned to face me, his usual smile already plastered across his face.

"Ahh," his said gaily. "Mr. Bolton, what can I do for you this afternoon?"

Momentarily, I wondered if Mr. Riley and Darbus had ever dated; they had that same way of always talking as though they were on stage. I shook the random thought from my head, and the continued. "Ummm…well I've been looking for Gabriella cuz she wasn't in the cafeteria like she said she'd be and I know you were her last class so I was wondering if you'd seen her," I asked.

"Oh, yes, she's still in my classroom. Miss Montez was feeling a little down so I said that she could stay until she had gathered herself."

"Is she okay?" I asked immediately, worried.

"Perhaps I'm being overly self confident, but I do think that the little talk we had helped her."

"Uhh…well…thanks," I said, curious to know what had been said between the two. "Well, I'll go find her."

"Yes, of course. Mr. Bolton? You should be proud of yourself," he said as he firmly shook my hand.

Shrugging, I replied, "Just being a man, sir."

We shook hands once more and I began to trot through the halls once again, and was soon approaching Mr. Riley's class room. I pulled open the door tentatively, almost afraid of the state I would see Gabriella in. First my right foot slipped through the crack I'd made in the door, my left following and I saw Gabriella just sitting there with a faraway expression on her soft face.

Timidly, I said, "Hey." She looked up at me and smiled, and I felt my anxiety melt away. I began to close the distance between us, now with less trepidation. "I was looking for you," I explained, "cuz you didn't turn up for lunch and then I saw Riley and he told me that you were upset? What happened?"

"Nothing," she replied as I ushered her to stand. I took her place on her desk chair before pulling her down into my lap, pressing kisses into her flowing hair. "I just got a bit overwhelmed and emotional but honestly, babe, I'm fine."

"Well, why did you get overwhelmed?" I questioned further. She began to roll her eyes and I shook my head in response. "Hey, no, don't give me that look. I think I have a right to know what had my girlfriend in tears, don't you?"

She sighed. Glancing away from me and down at my hands that I'd wrapped around her waist, she muttered, "No one talks to me in this class, okay? I bumped into Alan and he didn't even look at me. Then, me my usual clumsy self, I kinda tripped over and the whole thing just got to me and…that's it."

"What do you mean nobody talks to you?" I asked, confused.

"Seriously," she began and I could hear the sarcasm in her voice. "That you're struggling to understand?" Her eyes fixed on me and I knew she was annoyed but I ignored it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd get annoyed, and seriously they aren't worth it. I'm glad that I'm not going to have those kind of people around our baby if that's how they react, so I'm seeing it as a positive."

I held her gaze for a few moments, trying to find the truth in her beautiful brown eyes, and I found nothing to betray her words. Satisfied that she was being honest with me, that she wasn't secretly sitting on things, I let it go, hugged her tightly and let my hand slip under her cardigan so my fingertips could graze her stomach. "I love you," I said.

"I love you, too," she whispered, kissing me quickly on my lips. "I know you worry about me, but you shouldn't - really."

"I would worry about you when you weren't pregnant, do you really think that's going to stop now that you are?" I chuckled.

She smiled, too, brushing my hair out of my eyes. She was just so tender and that's how I knew she'd be the most amazing mother: with a feather-light touch, she traced the outline of my face - going over my brows, the ridge of my nose and my lips - and right there her maternal instinct was displayed and I had absolutely no doubt that our child was going to live in a loving home, with a mother that paid the utmost attention and could care for it in her sleep.

I only wish I was as confident about my own ability.

()()()

I'm six months into this pregnancy and Troy's is refusing to let me lift anything - I swear, sometimes he just about allows me to feed myself. He's gone into overdrive…but I still love him. We've got ourselves this little place to live in. Lucille being in real estate, she was excellent when it came to apartment-hunting; she knew all the people to speak to and got us a deal paying rent at a cost way lower than the landlord had first said. When we signed the papers, though, it wasn't as I had always pictured it would be: Lucille handed us the pen with trembling hands and when we had all signed the relevant documents, I noticed the definite gloss over her eyes and she made a quick exit with a sniffled apology. It was hardly the joyous occasion you expect when you move into your first flat.

From the bathroom, I heard Troy's keys jingling and his feet shuffling against the floor as he entered. "Babe?" came his muffled call.

Drying my hands quickly after washing them, I stepped out and saw Troy, weighed down like a little donkey with shopping bags. "Oh, gosh," I said. "Here, let me take something." I stretched out my hands but he turned his back from me, shunning my offer.

"No, I've got it," he said, his voice strained. I rolled my eyes and watched him waddle carefully to the little sofa where he dumped his load and began wiping his brow. "Whoo!" he exhaled.

I began to peak through the bags as Troy gulped down some water beside me. "Troy…"I said carefully. "I know you're just trying to be prepared and all but did we really need to by more diapers for now?" I saw his face fall and it made me feel like a total shit. I know he meant well but realistically this stuff will just kind of get in the way.

"Isn't it better to have the expense covered now than having to keep running to the store to buy more when the baby's here. This way it means when the baby comes we'll be more free with the money we have, right? We can go out as a family and stuff like that."

"I get what you mean, I do, but look at this place," I gestured around the apartment, my hands practically hitting the walls as I did so. "We're already tripping over each other as it is and once the baby and more stuff come, we'll really be pushed for space. Our Moms already bought a whole bunch of diapers and wipes and that stuff so we really didn't need anymore for now, Troy."

"So, what? You want me to return them?" he asked with a sharpness that took me aback.

"Huh?"

"Cuz I can return them," he said, and began snatching up some of the grocery bags, not caring that his force was ripping them. "Who cares what they think! I'll just take 'em back and tell whoever at the store that me buying them was stupid, huh? That I didn't think things through. How 'bout that!"

"What the hell has gotten into you!" I yelled. He threw the bags down, making me jump and the contents scattered all over the floor. Then he stormed out into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. "Troy!" There was no answer. I heard the trickle of running water, the sound eventually escalating into a full spray…but not even the sound of the shower, could disguise the clear sound of Troy's anger, as his palm pounded into the walls.

()

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I'm douche bag. I'm suck a _fucking_ douche bag! I stayed in the shower for as long as possible, coming out when the sensation of the hot spray couldn't soothe me any longer. I don't know what the hell got into me before. When I came out of the bathroom, Gabi was sobbing on the couch and it honestly broke my heart. I hadn't meant to hurt her, I just…lost control. I tried to apologise, laying my hand on her shoulder but she only shrugged it off. I tried not to feel the sting that stabbed through my heart when she did that, and told myself that she only needed space. I told her that I was going for a run but even then she didn't talk to me and so I left, and let the welcome night air whip against my burning skin.

()

It's been a week since that day, and Gabi and me are barely talking. I've tried to, but she shuts me down at every turn. We still sleep in the same bed, but I know that's only because we don't have a guestroom and Gabriella's too worried that if I sleep on our couch (which is honestly only a little bigger than an armchair) I'll hurt my back and won't be able to play for the championships. Whenever I attempt to snuggle in bed, she shifts away and on the few occasions she allows my arm to remain slung over her, her body stiffens considerably, and she never makes an attempt to return the gesture. If I'm being honest, it's starting to scare me. Is this how it's going to be from now? Gabriella has only ever stopped talking to me on two occasions: the first when our friends schemed to get us to forget about the musical call-backs and the second, last summer when I started acting like a jerk to get in with the guys from U of A. If we're not speaking when the baby isn't here yet, before we have that added stress, then how the hell are we meant to cope once we're parents? What if we don't work out?

When practice was over, I kind of subtely hung back, bouncing my ball casually, but making a deliberate choice not to go over and join the rest of my team. Since the rest of the school found out about Gabi being pregnant, I've grown a little distant from the team. I mean, they always hang out, right? They tend to go places after every practice and as I rush to be with Gabriella every spare moment, I miss a lot of the things that happen outside of practice so I've fallen out of the loop.

"Hey, dude," Michael called over. I looked over at the group, fiegning surprise, as though I hadn't realised that I wasn't a part of their conversation. "We're heading over to the bowling alley, you coming?" Michael was a good six feet tall, and could come across as pretty imposing if you didn't know him. His voice was real deep, so without even raising it, I heard him prefectly across the gym.

I shook my head. "I'm gonna stay back for a bit - put in a bit of extra work."

He nodded with understanding, then said "But Johnson's party on Saturday...you'll be there, right?"

"Uhhh...you know what, man, I'm gonna skip that. Busy Saturday."

"You're always busy of late," he muttered as he rolled his eyes.

Was this guy kidding me? He actually wanted me to feel bad for the fact that, guess what, I want to spend time with my pregnant girlfriend and prepare for our baby. Some people are such idiots. I ignored him, gave a general goodbye to the team and began jogging around the court, keeping the ball under excellent control.

As I aimed at the net, lining up my shot, I heard heavy footsteps behind me and, letting my hands fall limp, turned to see Dad coming towards me.

"You should've taken the shot," he said. "You had a nice prep." I shrugged. "Need to keep your head in the game, Troy."

"I know," I sighed.

"These next few weeks could change everything."

"I know."

"This game-"

"For the love of God, Dad, I know," I almost yelled, "Whatever you're going to say, I know." I shook my head, frustrated at the idea of my father still not having faith in me and trusting me to handle myself. I bounced the ball hard against the floor, getting pleasure in the fierce smacking sound flooding the gym, and drowning out the many voices in my head.

I starting darting around the gym again, weaving through my imaginary opponents just to give myself something to focus on. My heart pumped and the sweat oozed from every pore; my lips were tainted with the bitter tang, but I didn't stop. I took a sharp turn just in front of where my Dad was standing, but to my surprise, as I went to take my shot at the hoop, he sprung up in front of me, stealing the ball, stealing my shot. I looked at him confused...and just a tiny bit impressed.

"Talk to me," he said calmly as though he hadn't just made an awesome jump-shot. He continued, brushing his arms casually. "I haven't see you as sloppy on the court as you were during practice today, since..." he paused; thinking, I assume. "Since Gabriella left you last summer. So, you want to tell me what's going on?"

I dropped my head, my shoulders rounded. I turned my back and walked away from him, towards where my bag was on the bleachers. I swallowed half a bottle of water, and sopped up the sweat on my face with a towel, then said, "Gabi isn't talking to me." Dad chuckled, a reaction I found pretty insulting.

"Troy, son," he came over and patted me on the shoulder. "It's the hormones. Let me guess: she yelled, she cried, she ignored, and now the cold shoulder. ...Yeah, by the time you get home, she'll be all over you," he assured.

"You don't understand. This isn't just some little thing that she's taken too seriously; it's been a week since Gabriella last spoke to me - willingly, anyway," I muttered, almost feeling ashamed.

"Jesus Christ, Troy, what did you do?" Dad asked immediately. Gabriella never likes conflict; she's the kind of person that thinks all confrontation can be avoided with a forced smile and tight lips, so the fact that she's practically ignoring me is so out of character it's enough to let anyone know that whatever happened was serious.

"I don't know. Well, I do know, but I didn't mean it...I just...whatever," I sighed.

"Was it something you said?"

"No...not really." I ruffled my sticky hair and shook my head, relenting. "All I was trying to do was be prepared for the baby, so I went shopping...and...maybe - just maybe - I went a little overboard with the amount of diapers I bought and then we started to argue over it."

"Over the diapers?" he asked dubiously.

"Not so much about the diapers, but more...basically Gabi thought that I didn't have to buy so many, especially as we don't really have the space for it and I didn't take that too well and just...went off."

"Why?"

I was silent. I didn't want to tell him why. I didn't want anyone to know, really. I thought that, by telling someone, in some way it would make me seem lesser than; I'd be exposing my vulnerability and that isn't a trait you want people to be aware of when you're three months away from having your first child - at seventeen years old, no less.

"That's fine," he said after a little while. "You don't have to tell me, but you do have to tell Gabriella. Troy, it doesn't matter that the two of you argue. I know it isn't something you're used to, but it will happen, it's just part of the process of becoming first-time parents, and everyone goes through it. The thing you can't let fall by the waste-side, though, is the honesty between the two of you; you can battle through everything else that's going to be thrown at you over the next few years as long as that passage of communication remains open at all times." Dad could tell that I was still a bit uncertain and he outstretched his right arm, squeezed my left shoulder firmly and said, "Go talk to her, Troy. You can't play good 'till the whole team has their head in the game." He winked, and I knew what he was telling me stemmed way deeper than basketball and I nodded and smiled.

We hugged quickly but when I was leaving, he told me that he was going to stay behind for a few more hours to get some paper work sorted. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I paused with my hand pushing open the gym door. "Hey, Dad?" I called. He looked around. "That shot was pretty sweet."

()()()

I was paralysed in bed, not wanting to move for fear that something dreadful would happen if I did. The room was softly lit with the drapes closed and only the bedside lamps on, the book I had been reading lay abandoned beside me; the only sound was that of my careful, shallow breaths, seeping through my lips and into the open air. I heard the click of the lock on the front door and the familiar jangle of Troy's keys.

"Troy?" I called; loud enough to grab his attention but still with a hushed tone that wouldn't disturb anything.

"Yeah," he said cautiously.

"Will you come here, please?" His steps, still tentative, drew closer to the bedroom door. He twisted the knob slowly, then slid through the created gap. I was still fixed in my position and I watched as his brows furrowed. "I'm not gonna bite, you can come over," I said, noticing his hesitation.

"Uhh..." he seemed a little embarrassed that I'd noticed. "I didn't stop to shower after practice...I kinda stink." He wriggled his nose in distaste to affirm his statement.

"Troy I really don't care." His confusion was evident, and in the dim light, he struggled to discern my expression. "The baby kicked," I beamed clamping my teeth into my lower lip to restrain my Cheshire cat grin. Troy moved so quickly, he became a blur. In a flash he had slapped the light switch, flooding the room with the harsh light, and bounced across our bed. His hand was cool (most likely from the crisp air outside as usually he always radiated a comforting heat) as it pressed to my huge stomach, seeking the magical sensation.

"I can't have missed it!" he huffed like a little school boy as he slid his hand all over my stomach, unsuccessfully wanting to feel the kicks, too.

"Don't worry, it's been happening every few minutes," I assured him. "It'll come." It was quite peaceful for those next few moments; all tension between Troy and I had vanished completely, and everything felt just as it was meant to: perfect. He had rolled up my t-shirt (which was actually, technically his) and lay his cheek against my massive bump, brushing his lips over it tenderly every now and then as I ran my fingers through his hair and scratched his neck. I could tell he was starting to get despondent as I could feel his heavy sighs rushing across my bare skin. "It'll happen, baby," I cooed. He replied with an unhopeful grunt, and I felt -

"That's it!" he cried. His head flicked up at me but his hands remained stapled on the spot. "That's was it! That was it, right?" I nodded, giggling uncontrollably both at the unusual sensation and at the awe on Troy's face. The look on his face made my heart swell; the happiness was just seeping out of him and his smile was wider than I'd ever seen it. "My gosh, it feels so amazing," he sighed, before lunging at me and pressing short, chaste kisses to my lips over and over and over. "I love you, I love you so much," he would say, between the sound of our lips smacking together.

"I told you it would happen again," I said, and he nodded.

"You were right as usual. What does it feel like for you - to feel it inside, I mean," he asked curiously.

"Weird as hell but more amazing than absolutely anything I've ever felt before," I gushed, my smile splitting my face. My eyes began to tingle with tears. "Feeling it just makes it so real." Just as I said that we both felt a small thump once again; "There's actually a little person inside of me...our little person." The tears wet my cheek but I didn't care; they were tears of absolute, sublime joy and they could pour for eternity as far as I was concerned.

Troy kissed me again, this time for a little longer, though. His free hand cupped my cheek as he suckled my bottom lip between his own. He then flicked his tongue over it, warning me of it's entrance; my arms wrapping around his neck when it finally did. When his moist tongue glided over mine, it was passionate, but still tender; it was as though all of the love within him was being transferred to me through a kiss that was loaded with emotion.

Our foreheads pressed together, the tips of our noses touching after we pulled apart. I pecked his lips again, and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied earnestly, his blue eyes staring deep into mine.

We remained within our blissful cocoon for a little while longer after that, content to just...be. Then Troy stood, grasping onto my hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's go decide what we're going to have for dinner." He tugged my hand but when I didn't move, he looked at me, confused.

"I don't want to move while the baby's moving," I admitted sheepishly. "What if we move at the same time and then I move in a way that's bad for the baby and then it get's hurt." I expected Troy to snigger or something, but he didn't. He pressed his lips against my forehead and tipped my chin upwards so I was looking at him.

"Millions of women each day walk, run and excersise while their babies move, Gabi. They're way too resilient for a little movement to hurt them. Trust yourself," he whispered. He squeezed my hand once more, but this time I eased myself off the bed, following Troy to the kitchenette with slow, careful steps.

()()()

After rubbing the towel through my hair a few times, I flicked the excess water off my hair and rose my hands sheepishly in apology as Gabi narrowed her eyes at the water spraying onto the floor. She returned to her phone conversation, twirling her hair adorably as she spoke:

"Yeah, Mom it felt really weird. Before, you knew there was a baby but now you can actually feel it - it'll take some getting used to," she giggled. "I know...Troy was really excited, too...I had to force him into the shower cuz he was scared he'd miss it if he went anywhere...I will...yes...oh," her face suddenly fell a little. "Yeah, no that's fine. Okay, will do. Love you, too." She hung up.

"That your Mom?" I paused, furrowed my brows and looked over to the side of the room, tilting my head. "Stupid question. Anyway...what did she say?"

"Well I told her about the kicking, she said she remembered how scared she was the first time it happened to her and how Dad practically refused to take his hands off her stomach and then... she made up some excuse and said she had to go." I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her. "I want to say that she's excited about the baby just once, but she can't see past all the other stuff."

"You know she loves you, and the baby; just give her some time."

"I told her I was pregnant four months ago. The baby's here in three; how much more time is she going to need?"

"I know, I know," I comforted.

Although everything between us has seemingly returned to normal, there was still that pink Elephant in the room that neither of us wanted to acknowledge. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." There, I said it. Avoidance over.

"Why did you?" Her confusion was evident. "I wasn't mad - I wasn't even annoyed at you. I understood completely why you had bought more, I merely questioned the rationality of your decision."

I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek. "I knew you weren't mad, but I still couldn't put aside everything that was going on in my head."

"Which was?"

"I'm scared, Gabi."

"Of? ...Troy," she said firmly.

"I look at you, and you're amazing with kids. Even at this age, you completely understand them, and you say and do all the right things with them, and when we go to our pre-natal classes, you're always the first to change the diaper on the dummy, and answer all the questions like a pro, as if you've already had at least three kids before."

()()()

There are so many reasons I love Troy Bolton, and as he sits opposite me, now, I can't help but think them over: He's always passionate; he's a perfectionist; suave but a total nerd; red-blooded male, but gentle, considerate, sensitive and sometimes...even vulnerable.

"Sometimes I struggle to unclasp your bra without both hands," he said with a long face. "And now a little, helpless baby is going to be depending on my ability to multi-task. I'm scared of screwing this child up; I'm scared that it'll hate me because I've screwed it up; and I'm scared that I'm going to let you down; and I'm scared that people are going to look at me like a failure," he admitted, sadly.

"You're an idiot," I said bluntly.

"Jeez, Ella, you sure know how to cheer a guy up."

"You're an idiot," I repeated. "Do you remember when my Aunt came down to see Twinkle Towne? She bought my little cousin Tamara with her and her and my Mom wanted to go out to lunch and we'd planned to rehearse at my house so we said we'd be happy to babysit. You remember?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you remember how we let Tamara watch Jumanji and it totally freaked her out?"

"Yes. ...God, right there, that's the perfect example! _I_ was the one who suggested we put in Jumanji for her - a three year old! What kind of _douche_ thinks that's suitable for someone that age?" He dropped his head into his hands, leaving me to pry them away.

"Just listen," I insisted. "Yes, you were the one who chose the movie and yes, it freaked her out. But you were also the one who carried her on your back for the entire day because she was convinced the ground was going to swallow her," I reminded him. "It would have been so easy for you to think that she didn't have anything to do with you and leave me to take care of her, but you didn't - and it's not as though we were even going out then."

He shrugged. "Well, I saw how close you guys were and I thought if I showed you I liked kids then it would improve the chances of you saying yes when I finally got the balls to ask you out. Besides, we were all little kids once with crazy notions of the world, and it took nothing for me to indulge her for one day - kids deserve that attention."

I stroked his cheek and smiled. "And this was the guy that says he hasn't any paternal instincts." He blushed. "I've seen you with kids, Troy, and you have nothing to worry about. We're both going to be new at this, and not everything will work out, but I don't think it will be a total disaster. We have each other, right?"

"Absolutely." He kissed my palm soundly.

"Just...don't hold out on me again. That night...I started to panic. I thought maybe you were having second guesses," I whispered.

"Hey, hey, don't you say that," he said firmly with knitted brows. "You're my world. I never pictured myself renting a tiny apartment at seventeen, and a baby _most definitely_ wasn't in the equation...but you were; whatever I picture for myself, you're right their beside me, okay? Nothing will ever, ever change that. As long as you'll have me, I'm right here."

The situation Troy and I had found ourselves was far from ideal, but in a strange way, it was quintessentially us: unconventional and unique. I'm scared as hell about this baby and the effects it will have on our lives - and us on it - but then I look over at Troy - I'll see his wide, goofy grin, the 'concentration face' he wears unknowingly as he reads the baby books or the sheepish look he gives me when I spot him wiping away the milk that dribbled down his chin - and that sharp pang of fear ebbs into an occasional tingle. Because, just knowing I have Troy Bolton by my side, just knowing that his love surrounds me - well, that's enough to keep me going...whatever the weather.

* * *

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